


Bending the Knee

by Schemilix



Category: Tactics Ogre
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-12
Updated: 2013-08-12
Packaged: 2017-12-23 06:14:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 618
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/922963
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Schemilix/pseuds/Schemilix
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The twins discuss Ozma's engagement to Hobyrim.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Bending the Knee

Oz is strangely docile when unobserved. Or, as the case may be, observed by his sister. Her gaze is such a part of his life that it is as private as isolation and so, in their moments of repose, only she knows that he doesn't always scheme. Certainly he plots often. Some of the things he imagines make her wonder what she did wrong in keeping him at bay.   
Sometimes he reads. More often he watches the clouds and thinks of things even she isn't privy to. They could be unspeakably violent or as simple as finding shapes. That's the way with him, with her Oz.  
"Oz," she says after a moment's watching, breaking his half-trance. "I have news."  
He looks at her as if to say, 'Go on', without getting out of his chair. He sits like a woman with one leg over the other, it's an odd trait of his. Ozma wonders if that ever pinches his testicles.  
"Hobyrim asked for my hand in marriage this morning. He has father's blessing... and mine."  
For a long while Oz is silent before he clears his throat and says,  
"That's good. Isn't it? That's supposed... it's good. Good for you."   
Ozma frowns.  
"You do not sound convinced of this, Oz. Is something the matter? You think him an ill match? If you do, I will... reconsider. You would know better than Father would."  
"No, no. He is a good man. As good as any... worthy of you, I mean," Oz says. He takes a butterfly knife from his pocket, flips it and fans it almost as fast as the eye can see with a distracted air. She lets him, seeing in it how he thinks.  
"Who am I if you're not with me?" he says at length, not looking her in the eye. She sighs.  
"Oz, this isn't fair."  
Oz stands up abruptly, stuffing the knife in his pocket. "Fair? How is this unfair to /you/?"   
"We're close to thirty," Ozma admonishes at his outburst, and he sits back down. She takes a seat as well, to be even with him. "I'm not going anywhere."  
"Yes you are. You're going to be married, be a wife, maybe a mother. You won't just be a sister any more. You won't need me."  
"Well, good!" she snaps and, regretting it, adds, "We can't rely on just each other. It's not... normal. And what if one of us dies? I can't just have you and no-one else, Oz."  
"And I can't have anyone else but you. I can't be alone!"  
"If you stopped with that absurd blood-and-thunder persona of yours maybe you'd have friends! Even a woman."  
"I've had women," Oz grumbles.  
"That leave you."   
"I leave them oft as not. Fickle creatures." He waves a gloved hand dismissively. Then he looks at her seriously and their dark eyes meet. "Don't you see I'm always here for you, and I always will be? What can he give you that I can't?"  
"Oz." There is a warning note in her voice.  
"There's nothing. Absolutely nothing."  
"Oz!"   
Oz reaches over and puts his hand on the arm of her chair tentatively. "You know I could be -"  
Ozma slaps it away and shouts, "Enough! What kind of brother would stop his sister from being happy! Do you understand? He'll make me happy!" She clears her throat and rearranges a lock of flaming hair delicately. Then she says more quietly, "If you really loved me that's all you'd care about."  
Too far, she thinks, as he draws away and plays with the knife again.  
"If that's how it is, I shall think of a wedding gift," he says coldly. "I'm good at gifts, you know."


End file.
